Still grew the Roman fortifications and the whole thing was marvellous. Each Roman soldier, it seemed, was trained to every sort of labour and accustomed to it as to the march or battlefield. The army was made up of legions, containing from three thousand to six thousand men; the legion was divided into ten cohorts, the cohort into three maniples, and the maniple into two centuries, and each moved as if a part of one great being. Never before was army a machine so deadly, propelling itself in whole or in its smallest part as guided by a single mind. What Briton or Gallic force, however great, could cope with this! And now came anxious days to Vercingetorix. The promised succour was delayed, and famine threatened. It was resolved to send away the helpless people of the Mandubii, but they could not pass the Romans. Very early in the siege Vercingetorix had fairly divided, man by man, all corn and cattle and other food, and this was near its end. A council of the leaders was now held at which was to be considered the best course to be taken, and at this council Critognatus spoke most eloquently, counselling a sally and a swift determining of the great issue, however fatal. Then came the news by messengers who had passed the enemy that our allies had come and that, under the leadership of Commius, they were about to attack the Romans in great force! There was no faltering now! We must sally forth when our allies made their attack. The assault soon came, and for two days there were fierce charge and countercharge and much slaughter, the Gauls outside assailing the farther Roman works as did we the inner ones. On the fourth day came the bloody climax. There was at the extremity of the Romans’ northern line a hill which could not easily be included in their works, and the outer Gauls had perceived this hill’s advantage. They took from their main army sixty thousand of their best men, and these, under command of Vergasillaunus, passed round and seized the hill at night. At noon, it was decided, this great force should make its charge. Then all would join the battle and all knew that, before the night fell, there would come an end either of free Gaul or of the dreadful Cæsar! My axe was red with Roman blood. My arm was wearied and my body sore that night, and through the brief hours of rest I snatched I slept but fitfully. That my sleep would fail me in the night to come I had no fear, for I knew in my heart what must befall. It did not daunt me. What warrior had done better? What says the Havamal of Odin: “Cattle die, Kindred die, We ourselves also die; But the fair fame Never dies Of one who deserves it!”